Furio Guinta, CENA
by MelfiRose
Summary: Furio reveals another side, and you'll never guess who benefits from it!
1. Agita Epidemic

FURIO GUINTA, CENA  
  
PART 1  
  
The weekly silent staredown between Tony and Dr. Melfi was interrupted by a sharp knock on the office door.   
  
"Excuse me." She gets up and opens the door.   
  
"Are you Dr. Jennifer Melfi?" the man in the doorway asks.  
  
"Yes, I'm in the middle of a session right now. If--"  
  
"I have a message from the state medical board." He handed her an envelope and walked away.  
  
"I'm really sorry about this," she said as she walked back to her chair and opened the letter.   
  
"No problem." Her face turned red, then white, as she read the letter. Then her eyes brimmed with tears. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing. It's personal!" She buried her face in her hands and cried.  
  
Tony walked over to her and put his arm around her. "Dr. Melfi, I'm worried about you. What's goin' on?" He glanced over her shoulder at the letter just as she folded it. "What's this about alcohol abuse?"  
  
"They're making me take a leave of abscence for at least two weeks, effective immediately. I'm sorry, I shouldn't bothor you with my problems."  
  
"No bothor. I care about you. I want to help you."  
  
"Anthony, if you're thinking of threatening or bribing the state medical board, you can forget that right now," she said, shaking her finger at him.   
  
"No, I want to help you get better."  
  
"Who says I have a problem?"  
  
"Dr. Melfi, I know when somebody's been drinking, and you've been gettin' yourself pretty loaded up lately, and I just don't want--"  
  
"Anthony, I said I don't want your help! Just go home!"  
  
Tony left, and started driving home. His cell phone rang. "This is Tony."  
  
"Tony, this is Artie I'm in big trouble I shoulda called you first I'm dead meat help me--"  
  
"Whoa, Artie, slow down! What's goin' on?"  
  
"Well, you know, business has been kinda slow since September 11th, and well, I had to lay off your friend Furio."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Well, he started chasing me around the kitchen with a meat cleaver. He only backed off when I mentioned your name. What are you gonna do about this?"  
  
"I'll talk to him, Artie." He drove to Furio's apartment.   
  
"Please, Tony, may I whack Mr. Bucco?" Furio asked almost as soon as he saw Tony at the door.   
  
"No, you can't whack Artie! He's a very good friend of mine!"  
  
"I need cover, man. Looks very suspicious for Italian immigrant to have no job."  
  
"We'll think of something. Hey, I got a friend who owns a body shop--"  
  
"No, no, too close to old business."  
  
"Whatever, Furio. What did you do for a front job in Italy?"  
  
"I sshow you." He rummaged throungh a small trunk on the other side of the room, took our a businness card, and handed it to Tony.   
  
"My Italian must be rusty. What's this mean?"  
  
"I was nurse's aide."  
  
Tony began to laugh hysterically. "What? You were a fuckin' nurse's aide? You gotta be kidding me!"  
  
"No. Who you think took care of the old man?"  
  
"Is he still alive?"  
  
"Of course he is, Tony. I was very good nurse's aide."  
  
"You couldn't do that here. They do background checks. You'd be deported in a New York minute. Wait a minute! Maybe if you worked private duty--. Hey, Furio, do you know anything about alcoholism."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	2. Caregiver with a gun

FURIO GUINTA, CENA  
  
PART 2  
  
The sound of the telephone ringing woke Dr. Melfi from a deep, drunken sleep. "Hmmm?"  
  
"Where you keep your spare key?"  
  
"Cusamanos have it," she answered and hung up without thinking. She drifted off again.  
  
Several hours later, she thought she heard a clanking sound next to her and caught a whiff of leather and cologne. Her head was throbbing. "What in God's name did I do last night?" What was the silver bell that usually sat on the mantelpiece doing on her nightstand? The sounds of someone walking around the kitchen and washing dishes drifted into the room. For a moment, she panicked. Then she remembered the call from Tony Soprano. She decided to give him a hard time about his manservant act and send him on his way. She picked up the bell and rang it, but stopped because it made her head hurt worse.  
  
"You ring, doctora?" A gorgeous young Italian man stood in the doorway.  
  
"Who are you, and what are you doing in here?"  
  
"My name is Furio. I come to take care of you."  
  
"Just get it over with. I didn't really want to live anymore anyway."  
  
"Ah, you poor thing! You need help." He walked over to the bed and put his hand on her shoulder.  
  
"You mean--you're not here to kill me?"  
  
Furio laughed. "No, of course not."  
  
Dr. Melfi dragged herself out into the kitchen. "I need a drink," she muttered. Furio put a glass of what looked like pond water on the rocks under her nose. "What's this?"  
  
"Iz herbal tea--to clean alcohol out of your system."  
  
She took a drink. "Interesting."  
  
Furio put a plate of strawberries and whipped cream in front of her. "You eat now."  
  
She turned up her nose. "I don't know. I feel awful."  
  
"You feel better with something on your stomach. Just eat slowly." He sat and watched her.  
  
"I'm going back to bed." She shuffled out of the room.  
  
Melfi slept most of the day. Furio kept bringing her glasses of his herbal concoction. By evening, she really needed a drink. She peeked in on her caregiver and found him absorbed in a book. "Perfect," she thought. She walked to the liquor cabinet, and as she grasped the door handle, she heard a noise behind her.  
  
"Step back!"  
  
She whirled around, shouting, "Don't tell me what to do!" Then she noticed the gun pointing at her.  
  
"I said back up! Come with me."  
  
She followed Furio to the kitchen. He poured her a different herbal concoction. "I don't need any more of your stupid herbal tea!"  
  
"This will calm your nerves. You drink now." He held the gun on her while she drank. "I keep my eyes on you. You get better whether you want or not!"  
  
"Yes, sir." She slinked back to her bedroom. She wanted to give Tony Soprano an earful about this guy, but she didn't think she had much choice. One doesn't argue with a caregiver with a gun. 


End file.
